


Rewritten

by jadenanne7



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Amnesia, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-05-13 19:21:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14754767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadenanne7/pseuds/jadenanne7
Summary: When the rest of the town awakens, Belle is still asleep. Rumpelstiltskin is not amused.





	1. Day 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

This is my first Rumbelle. Let's see how this goes, shall we?

 

 

Rumpelstiltskin is not a happy man. 

He should be ecstatic, he knows, with his long-dead love standing in front of him and magic well on its way, but he cannot bring himself to feel happy. 

The only thing Rumpelstiltskin feels is pissed off.

"Regina locked me up."

Regina will pay.

"He said you would protect me."

And he will. He will protect what is his as he didn't the first time around. He will protect her and love her and never let her go. And, hopefully, it will be enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She holds his hand in the car. It's probably more out of fear of the vehicle than any kind of buried affection, but it's still a lovely feeling. 

"Where are we going?" she asks, eyeing the forest around them as he turns down a partially hidden dirt road. Rumpelstiltskin fights a grin. Always with the questions, his Belle, no matter how frightened she is.

"Somewhere special." He squeezes her hand, hoping it is as reassuring to her as it is to him. "Somewhere that will make it all okay again."

He hopes. He desperately hopes.

When the dirt road ends and he can drive no further, Rumpelstiltskin reluctantly lets go of Belle's hand. "Up for a little walk, Dearie?" he asks, eyeing her pitiful shoes and paper-thin gown. He'll fix that soon enough. He has enough women's clothing in his shop to supply her with a more than decent wardrobe. Most of it in her size. Suddenly, he wonders why he held those particular clothes back. Maybe...

No. That kind of thinking will send him mad.

The Dark One doesn't need any help in that department.

Belle takes his hand again once they are out of the car, and he sucks in a breath when he realizes she's not letting go. "Do you know me?" she asks, her eyes turned to him as he guides her through the forest. "I know I don't know you."

His chest tightens and he mentally pulls himself back from the ledge. She'll know him. In mere minutes she'll know him.

"I know you. I know you better than anybody in the world. Do you believe that?"

"Yes."

They speak no more until Rumpelstiltskin spots the well in the center of the forest. His steps quicken and Belle struggles to keep up. It's almost within his grasp. Magic. Magic that will give him everything he ever desired. His son. Belle. A leg he can fucking walk on.

"Wait! Stop!" Belle yanks on his hand and he realizes that something is wrong.

Or something is right.

The Savior has finally gotten something right. True love's kiss has broken the curse and a wave of strong, pure, potent magic has swept through Storybrooke, waking its sleeping inhabitants.

He almost feels sorry for Regina.

Almost.

"What was that?" Belle's worried voice pulls his attention back to where it should be. Where it always should have been. On her. "What just happened?"

Rumpelstiltskin takes a deep breath and prepares himself for what's surely coming. Why did he let her go? Why did he not come for her? He prepares to beg.

"Mr. Gold?"

Mr. Gold?

In the distance, Rumpelstiltskin hears the sounds of the awakening. Shouts of joy. Shouts of anger. Tears. Love. The forest around him is deathly silent in comparison. Praying to whatever deity might still listen to him, he turns to Belle and peers warily into her big blue eyes.

Confusion. Fear. Absolutely no recognition of any kind.

Belle is still asleep.


	2. Day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing.

Belle sleeps like the dead, an angel in the bed Rumpelstiltskin has gladly given up for her. The guest bed can use the miles anyway, and all thoughts of sharing are off the table considering they are basically complete strangers. He can't be bitter about it. He's lucky she's willing to come within a mile of him after his poor showing the day before.

Magic is finally here, and he brought it. Belle had been less than impressed, and he understands her wariness. He must have sounded like a mad man in the middle of the forest, rambling on about magic and memories and castles in the Enchanted Realm.

She was going to run. The hazy purple mist convinced her to stay.

Or maybe she was too frightened to run.

Nonetheless, she had followed him back to the shop, silent and wide-eyed in the wake of his revelations. She was at least grateful for the shower and the clothes.

Gratefulness has eluded most of the town.

He had been expecting the Golden Couple and their hot-headed offspring when they burst through the door of his shop, demanding answers. Honestly, one would think they'd have taken a moment to enjoy their little family reunion. But the town was bloodthirsty.

They could have Regina's blood.

He was not, however, expecting Belle to eavesdrop on that delightful conversation.

"Why do those people think you had something to do with all this?"

He could have lied. He could have fought to save face, but he isn't a complete idiot and neither is Belle.

"Because I was once a very bad man."

And now he sits in the silence that has enveloped them ever since, because if Belle believes nothing else, she believes that. But she has nowhere else to go and he takes full advantage of that sad fact.

Because Rumpelstiltskin is still a bad man.

Keeping an ear out of any indication that Belle might be awake, he busies himself with several tasks. Recovering Belle's memory takes priority. Punishing Regina is a little less urgent, but only just. Bae will have to be pushed to the backburner for a while. Rumpelstiltskin is determined to have Belle by his side when he finds his son. He will accept nothing else.

He misses his books. A few have turned up in his shop and in the attic of his atrociously pink house, but none of them are any help in his current situation. A few other unexpected things have also turned up. One thing in particular... Regina is as good as dead. No need to rush, so he puts it to the side.

Nothing is as easy as it was in the Enchanted Forest. Magic does not bend to his every whim here. He will have to work for it. A little hard work never hurt anybody, but he is on a time crunch. Every moment that Belle doesn't remember him is a moment she might be convinced to leave.

That cannot happen.

Footsteps fall on the stairs and he sweeps his work out of sight.

"Good morning," Belle says quietly, standing before him in oversized pajamas and a thick robe. She is awkward and distrustful, but she is at least speaking to him and that will have to be enough for now.

"Morning. How did you sleep?"

"Very well, thank you." She tugs at her sleeve and Rumpelstiltskin can feel her nerves. "I still think there's no reason I can't take the guest..."

"You're not a guest," Rumpelstiltskin interrupts with a wave of his hand. "My home is your home."

Belle frowns, unsatisfied with this answer. "Can you please explain the reason why to me again? I think I might have dreamed.... I'm not entirely convinced I'm not still in the asylum. They've probably upped my meds..."

There is a cracking sound as Rumpelstiltskin snaps his fingers and calls forth a small ball of light to sit in the palm of his hand. It is the most he can manage, but it is enough.

"That's amazing," Belle says, not sounding amazed at all. "How are you doing that?"

Rumpelstiltskin expects he'll hear that question often over the next few days. He resolves to be patient. He knows it is easier said than done.

"Magic."

As if that explains anything.

"Yes, but how...?"

"It's a curse," Rumpelstiltskin starts, cautiously navigating the waters of this conversation. "I thought it would be a blessing. I thought it would solve all of my problems. It created a lot more problems than it solved."

"And yet you still use it."

Twenty-eight years in an asylum has not dulled Belle's disdain for all thing magical, it seems. Nor has it dulled her tongue.

"It's a part of me now. Even when I can't reach it, it's there. And now, with my son gone and you looking at me as if I might gobble you up, it's all I have."

It is as honest as Rumpelstiltskin is able to be.

"I don't think you're going to gobble me up." Belle takes a tiny step forward, as brave as the day he met her. "But I do think I may be in over my head with a stranger who thinks our entire town is full of fairy tale characters..."

"The whole Disney line-up."

"...and makes magic with his hands."

"Na. I don't make it. I just channel it."

He is rewarded with a familiar smile and feels himself smiling back. He's missed this, this easy banter. He's missed her.  
"And I'm okay with this?"

"No."

Rumpelstiltskin feels a flash of pride at this little bit of honesty that came with no hesitation, no consideration of consequences... it's nice to know he is still capable of this.

And maybe he should stomp this impulse to a bloody pulp because Belle is silent and silence from Belle is never a good thing.

"Seems to me like I just need to get okay with it. Doesn't look like its going anywhere anytime soon, and it doesn't look like I'm going anywhere either."

Or maybe he just needs to learn: new world, new rules.


	3. Day 3

Nothing is working.

Spells are useless, potions make Belle ill, and as much as Rumpelstiltskin waves that damned cup in front of her face, it still means nothing. Belle cannot remember a thing. Magic is failing Rumpelstiltskin as it hasn't failed him since... since Bae.

He wonders if it's just him, if he's simply rusty and needs to try harder. But he has never had to try to be the Dark One. It has always been instinctual.

After his last book has been read cover to cover and his last spell has sent Belle into a fit of giggles that takes her an hour to recover from, Rumpelstiltskin waves the white flag.

He needs Regina.

The townspeople have just enough fondness for Henry not to slaughter the Evil Queen and drag her corpse up and down main street, but only just. Emma locks her up instead. For her own protection. In the end it will not be enough, but for now it is enough for Rumpelstiltskin. At least this way she cannot run.

She is not surprised to see him, but a hint of fear shines through her nonchalant façade and Rumpelstiltskin is pleased. He needs Regina afraid enough to talk.

"I knew it was just a matter of time before you came to gloat," she says.

"I haven't come to gloat, Regina."

And it's a damn shame, because if there was ever a good time to gloat, the time is now.

"Really?" Regina sneers. "You aren't here to rub that "all magic comes with a price" bullshit in my face?"

"All magic does come with a price." Rumpelstiltskin leans against Emma's desk, already exasperated with this conversation.

"A price I already paid." Regina grips the bars holding her in so tightly that her knuckles turn white. "With my own father's heart. I killed the only thing I loved so that this would work. Not so it would come crashing down on me thirty years later."

"You paid for the spell. You paid to get us all here. You paid for your revenge. And you got it. You separated husbands and wives... brothers and sisters... parents and children... and now you're paying for them. And you'll pay and pay until the debt is wiped out. If it even can be, which I doubt. Horrible deeds beget horrible consequences, Dearie."

"And you knew that." Tears well in Regina's eyes, and, to the untrained eye, she is the perfect picture of regret. Rumpelstiltskin knows better. These are tears of rage. "You knew this would happen. You knew and you let me do it. Egged me on..."

"I gave you plenty of warning. It's not my fault you didn't heed it. But that's neither here nor there now. It's done. And it's not what I'm here to talk about."

Regina scoffs. "What else is there to talk about?"

"Magic."

Regina goes silent, staring at Rumpelstiltskin likes she's never seen him before. And then she laughs. "Magic? The whole town just woke up. Snow White and her idiot husband are trying to convince everyone that they are still in charge and people are believing it. Emma has my son and I'll probably never see him again and you're worried about magic?"

"You're not?"

Regina rolls her eyes. "I brought us to a land without magic. I'm surprised I'm able to do the little that I'm able to do."

So her magic is faulty as well. It's a relief in a way. At least it leaves them on a level playing field.

"Yes, but I brought the magic here." Rumpelstiltskin grins at Regina's expression. "True love. Emma."

"Of course you'd have a fail-safe."

"I have many worked into this particular curse. Did you really think I'd spend all eternity in a hell of your making? I think not."

"So you put all your faith in a name and waited it out."

"Names have served me well in the past. And I happen to think Emma is a lovely name."

Regina pulls a face and Rumpelstiltskin is reminded that if the Evil Queen is nothing else, she is ever a childish brat. And that will probably never change.

"Would you like to know another name I think is just lovely?" Rumpelstiltskin stands as straight as he can and pushes himself to sound as horrifyingly cheerful as possible. It has the desired effect. Regina is instantly wary. "Belle. Belle is the loveliest name I've ever heard." He had not planned on revealing so much so soon, but Regina's nerves are showing and it feels too good to stop. "Belle, Belle, Belle. I've been saying that name a lot over the past few days."

If Regina knows, she's not letting on.

"How sentimental of you. You know, I was always surprised you had such a hard on for the help. It seems to me like you had much better options."

"Like you?" It is so hard not to invoke Cora's name, but some things are better left buried and he doesn't need the conversation derailed any further.

"Ha! In your dreams. Or in my nightmares." Regina crosses her arms and looks so pleased with herself and Rumpelstiltskin cannot wait to wipe the smug smile off her face.

"Speaking of dreams," he starts, stepping closer to the cell," I had the strangest one just last night. Perhaps you can help me decipher it."

"Perhaps. I've got nothing else to do."

"I dreamed of Belle. Like I haven't in the longest time." Regina rolls her eyes and Rumpelstiltskin's chest tightens. "She came to me, in my shop. Cold. Hungry. Scared. I tried to help her. Tried to put her mind at ease. Tried to reassure her that I was there and it would all be alright. But she didn't even remember who I was."

The blood drains from Regina's face and she backs away from the bars.

"She didn't even remember who she was. But what she does remember is that she's been locked away. For thirty years. In. An. Asylum."

Rumpelstiltskin's fists hit the bars and Regina is on her bed in an instant, her back against the wall and her hands between her knees. 

"I could have killed her," she tries to reason, as though this should calm him down. "I kept her alive."

"So you could kill her when it suited you."

"I had every intention of giving her back to you," Regina lies. "I just needed..."

"Leverage."

"Leverage." Regina knows she's fucked. Rumpelstiltskin can see it in her face, her body, even in the way she sets her mouth as if she's not going to tell him anything else that can hurt her.

Oh, he's going to hurt her.

"You listen to me, Regina, and listen well. You're going to help me." Regina balks but is wisely, blessedly silent. "Belle can't remember. Anyone or anything. The curse is broken and she is still asleep. I need to know why and I need to know how to fix her."

"I don't know why."

"The hell you don't." Rumpelstiltskin leans closer to the bars, regretful that he cannot snap his fingers and make them disappear. "You've had her all this time, haven't you? From the day she left my castle til now. Tell me, was she on her way back to me? Was she coming home?"

Regina nods quietly and Rumpelstiltskin fumes. Thirty years he's missed with Belle because of this woman. But no more.

"I may not have my magic now, and the Dark One seems asleep as much as Belle, but what I do have should keep you up nights, Regina."

Regina shrugs. "I'm already up nights. What's one more thing?"

Rumpelstiltskin smiles and presses his face to the bars, whispering such evil plans that Regina chokes back a sob. "I'll help you," she promises. "I'll tell you everything I know."

"Oh, I know you will."


	4. Day 4

For once in her life, Regina is not lying. She knows nothing. There is no reason, logical or magical, that Belle shouldn't remember. Rumpelstiltskin accepts this with all the grace he can muster, which is none at all. He leaves the jail at Emma's insistence, sending papers flying in his wake, threatening retaliation that Emma doesn't know he cannot deliver. He resolves to sleep on it and come back the next day, refreshed and determined.

He wakes the next morning angry and heartbroken and not at all up to looking at Regina's face. Perhaps a day in bed will do him good. Perhaps he'll never leave the bed again.

"It's noon."

Rumpelstiltskin raises to his elbows so quickly his head spins and is shocked to find his door open and Belle standing in his guest room, two mugs of what he can only assume is coffee in hand, swaddled to the neck in a thick robe. His robe.

"You don't seem the type to sleep all day, but just in case you need a little help getting up and about..." She hands him the coffee and steps back to the doorway, as if she's intruding on his space. Nothing can be farther from the truth.

"Thank you, Belle."

"Belle." Belle twists the word around and around, over and over, not yet comfortable with her own name. "It's rather pretty, whoever came up with it."

This is a whole other problem on a list of problems that Rumpelstiltskin is currently ill-equipped to deal with. Maurice, the King of Flowers, has distributed flyers throughout Storybrooke, desperate to find his daughter. If he finds her before she remembers, all is lost. Maurice will tell her the truth, or the truth as he knows it. The truth Maurice will tell will completely destroy Rumpelstiltskin's chances to keep Belle. The thought brings a knot to his stomach.

"You came to me willingly, you know."

Belle's eyes widen, as if that has been her thought all along.

"You called me to your father's castle. Three times you called my name. Each time more demanding than the last. I heard you the first time, of course, but I thought I'd make you sweat it out a bit. Make you think I wasn't coming. I can be cruel that way."

Maybe Rumpelstiltskin's version of the truth is just as horrible as Maurice's. 

"I called you? Why did I call you? Did I know you?" Belle's grip on her mug tightens so that he fears she might shatter it. He has her full attention. Nothing draws Belle in like a good story.

"Oh, Dearie. Everyone knew me. Though how you worked out how to summon me is a mystery. Probably a book. Always with your nose in a book." Belle blushes and Rumpelstiltskin offers a smile. "Trust me. It's a compliment."

Belle smiles back. "I'm sure it is. So... I summoned you?"

"Yes. Your kingdom was in grave danger. Ogres."

"O..Ogres?" Belle steps forward, intrigued.

"Nasty creatures. Dumb as posts, but could demolish entire villages in one fell swoop."

"I know I've said this before," Belle says as she takes a small step forward, "but all this feels like a fairy story. Like I've fallen asleep reading a book and this is my dream."

Rumpelstiltskin extends a hand, inviting her to sit at the end of the bed. He feels a bit smug when she sits across from him, legs tucked up under her like a child.

"It only gets stranger. You called me to dispense with the ogres and I did. Had quite a good time with it, actually. Ogres aren't exactly my favorite beasts." Belle arches a brow and he continues. "Long story. The point is, I did the job and you paid the price." This is it. Rumpelstiltskin will tell the truth and Belle with either run from it or accept it. "All magic comes with a price. That's something they don't tell you in your fairy stories. All magic comes with a price and you were my price."

Belle is stunned; the intrigued, captivated expression on her face morphs into one of shock and disgust. "I was your price. I was your... your..."

"No!" Rumpelstiltskin cringes. 'You were my housekeeper."

"Housekeeper?" Belle repeats, confused. "You wanted me to clean your house? In exchange for getting rid of the ogres? That hardly seems like a fair agreement."

"You didn't see it that way at the time. Of course, it meant you would never see your father or your fiancée again, so you may have had a right to be upset."

"I had a fiancée?!" Belle jumps from the bed, and Rumpelstiltskin smothers a laugh.

"Oh, don't get so wound up! It was an arranged marriage. He was a brute and an idiot and after a while you were more than grateful that I cut that relationship off at the stem!" Always one to laugh at his own jokes, Rumpelstiltskin lets out a chuckle, or what is meant to be a chuckle. What comes out instead is a maniacal, high-pitched giggle.

Oh, no.

"It's not funny!" Belle flops back down at the end of the bed, frustrated. "Why would you do that? You took my away from my family and my fiancée to clean your house. Why?"

"Because I am a bad man." Rumpelstiltskin averts his gaze to the dark comforter and sighs. "A bad, lonely man. I wanted companionship. And a caretaker for my rather large estate." He barely catches himself before his hands fly in the air emphatically. No. He has a choice. In this land, he is Mr. Gold. In this land, he is not the scaly monster that all the realms fear. He has a chance to show Belle something besides the Dark One. He folds his hands in front of him and wills them not to move, focusing on the blessedly smooth skin until he hears Belle's impatient little sigh.

"At least you're honest." Belle scoots a little closer and the room somehow feels warmer. "Did I ever see them again?"

"No. But you knew they were safe. You knew that the kingdom was saved and your people rejoiced. You were content in that."

He hopes she was, at any rate.

"So I just stayed with you and cleaned up your house."

"You make it sound so dull. No, you didn't just clean my castle. You plundered through my potions, raided my bookshelves, cooked inedible dinners and when you weren't doing any of those things, you were asking a million questions! Where was I going? When was I coming back? Could you go with me? You promised you wouldn't try to interfere with my work. You just wanted fresh air! A lie! You interfered daily!" Rumpelstiltskin pauses, taking a moment to study Belle's beautiful face. "You challenged me. I needed to be challenged. You probably saved more lives than you'll even know. And the fact that you didn't blow yourself up playing in my laboratory is really something to be lauded."

Belle laughs and Rumpelstiltskin breathes a sigh of relief. "I couldn't have been that bad!"

"You released my prisoners!"

"No!"

"Robin Hood. You released Robin Hood from the dungeons and he stole from me. Again!"

Belle's widen then narrow in disbelief. "Now I know you're having me on. There's no such person."

"A thief. And not a very good one. A decent shot with an arrow. Devilishly handsome, I will give him that. But to let a woman rescue him like that? To beg a woman to rescue him? Not exactly the fairy tale hero they make him out to be. And he certainly wasn't giving that money to the poor." It's too late to shut himself up by the time Rumpelstiltskin realizes that his voice has gained a curious accent. Not so curious to him, but Belle has noticed and seems perplexed. Lucky for him, she doesn't see fit to comment. There are other things on her mind.

"Then who was Robin Hood giving the money to?" Belle's stretches out the name as if she still doesn't believe.

"His friends. Although I suppose they were pretty poor. At least to begin with."

Belle shakes her head from side to side and smiles, taking Rumpelstiltskin back to a better time. A time when she understood his jokes and thought he could actually be a better person. She stands and he is a wee bit disappointed when she starts towards the door. "You know," she says, pausing in the doorway, "One of these days I'll believe you when you tell me these stories."

Rumpelstiltskin smiles sadly. "One of these days you'll remember these stories. I promise."

Belle pauses, and he feels another question coming on. "You said you came to my father's castle?"

"Yes."

"His castle?"

"Yes, Princess. Where else would a king live?"


	5. Day 5

"Drink this."

This is all Rumpelstiltskin has to say to convince Belle to lift the vial of smoking green liquid to her lips and take a strong pull, even though the potion, like all the potions before, make her cough and gag and wipe tears from her eyes. Her trust is a heady thing, and he tries not to let it go to his head... to not ask her for more and more until she no longer trusts him at all. He has a habit of doing that. To everyone.

"I don't think this is working." Belle hands the empty vial back to Rumpelstiltskin, eager to get rid of it. 

"It's not." The only thing keeping Rumpelstiltskin from shattering the vial into a million pieces is Belle's sweet face, looking at him expectantly. She thinks he can do something for her. She thinks this is a problem he can fix. She's wrong, but he's touched, nonetheless. "Maybe potions are not the way to go." Belle visibly perks up at the thought, and Rumpelstiltskin is inspired. "In fact, I was thinking just this morning that I didn't quite give my shop the going through it deserves. How about a little day trip downtown?" This thrills Belle to no end, and guilt eats at Rumpelstiltskin until he can no longer look her in the eye. It is not right to keep her cooped up in his house, no matter how precarious the situation is outside. He resolves to take her out more.

The trip downtown is a short one, and Rumpelstiltskin is once again astounded at how small the town really is. Regina surely didn't give them much breathing room. It was cruel, actually, to put loved ones so close together and yet so far apart. Further evidence that he had picked the right person to enact the curse. Only a psychotic bitch would think of something so sadistic. And the curse had required sadism. 

The store is a mess when they walk in, and Rumpelstiltskin is embarrassed to the point of shame. Especially when Belle quirks her brow and pointedly eyes the destruction. "I might have lost my temper," he says before busying himself hanging up their coats. Belle says nothing, but immediately sets about cleaning up the mess. Just like old times. 

He thinks of decluttering, of getting rid of some of these things that mean nothing to him and that no one in their right mind would possibly ever buy, but decides against it. As much as he doesn't need the windmill that turned John Doe into David, it might come in handy someday. He moves it to a dusty corner and rolls his eyes at the memory. Charming could have saved himself a lot of trouble if he'd just stayed the hell out of Rumpelstiltskin's shop. He could have saved a lot of people a lot of trouble. But the easy road was and never will be Charming's way.

"These are terrifying. Were they actually made for a child?" Belle is holding two hideous marionette puppets in her hands, horrified. 

"No," Rumpelstiltskin says. "They weren't made for a child at all." He had watched from afar as Jiminy had made the colossal mistake of underestimating his parents. He had also watched from afar as the Blue Fairy had given Jiminy a second chance and turned him into a cricket. A cricket. It's what the idiot deserved. Rumpelstiltskin had given very specific instructions. All Jiminy had had to do was make sure the potion got into the right glass. "They were made for adults. To remind us of the consequences of being fools." He takes the puppets from Belle's hands and arranges them in the display of the front window. To remind Dr. Hopper of just that.

Belle shrugs and reaches for something else that Rumpelstiltskin has to nervously jerk from her hands. She's already lost her memory. She does not need a sleeping curse on top of it. 

"That's a spindle." It is a statement, not a question.

"Yes, it is." Rumpelstiltskin puts the spindle away safely behind the counter. "Sharper than it looks." A great deal of the item in this store are much more dangerous than they appear.

"How do I know that?" Belle gives him that look again... the look that means that he should know the answers to all of her questions. He should know, but he doesn't.

"I don't know. It's amazing the little things we retain when..."

"Straw into gold. The wheel spun straw into gold." Belle looks at him strangely, confused at the words that are coming out of her own mouth. "No.... I don't know..."

"Yes. You do know." Rumpelstiltskin is ecstatic. It's not much, but it is more than he can hope for without magic. It's something. "You used to watch me spin straw into gold. I sat at my wheel and spun and you watched me." It isn't enough for Belle to hear the words. Fragments of memory mean nothing to her, and she is quick to brush them off. Rumpelstiltskin will not let her. "It's here, the wheel. If you want to see it."

Belle is intrigued. "Show me," she demands, and Rumpelstiltskin grins. How adorable that she still thinks she can control the Dark One with just words. Only she can and she does and he grabs her hand readily and leads her to the back room where he keeps the wheel. It is covered with a heavy blanket and he cannot help the dramatic flair with which he rips the blanket off. "And here it is." His hands fly up of their own accord and this time he lets them. 

Belle's hands play along the wheel, moving it from side to side, like a captain at the helm of a pirate ship. 

Rumpelstiltskin does not care for pirates.

"Here, like this." He pulls Belle's hands along the wheel slowly, turning it with her and longing for the days when the straw spun into gold instead of a thick rope. "The straw ran from a basket and I spun it, slowly, and right here," he motions to the top of the wheel, "is where the magic kicked in. This is where the gold started. And it all ended up in a basket on the other side. Or, rather, overflowing from the basket on the other side. That's where you came in." Belle glances at him, surprised. "You picked it all up and moved it to my vault."

Belle's eyes narrow playfully, and she moves away from the wheel. "And what did you spend all this gold on?"

"Absolutely nothing." 

"You could spin straw into gold and you spent it on nothing?" 

"I didn't need it. Anything I wanted I had with a snap of my fingers." Rumpelstiltskin snaps his fingers for emphasis. "I spun for pleasure."

"Pleasure? I don't see how sitting at a wheel and spinning it round and round could be much fun." 

"Well it wasn't so much about fun as it was about forgetting. It helped me forget." 

Belle takes a few tentative steps forward, curious. "Forget what?"

For a moment, Rumpelstiltskin can hardly breathe, much less talk. Bae sits on the tip of his tongue, but he is not ready to explain his son and Belle is not ready to hear it. He shrugs instead. "Must have worked." Belle giggles and makes her way out of the back room, leaving the wheel and the fragment of memory behind. Rumpelstiltskin doesn't push it any further. It is enough that for one moment, it was there. 

"I don't think we're going to find anything today," Belle says, brushing a finger over a wand. Rumpelstiltskin watches intently, looking for a spark... anything that indicates that the wand still holds powers. Nothing. He snorts and looks away. Fairy Godmothers... useless in life, useless in death. "Maybe we're trying too hard. Maybe we should let the memories come when they're ready to come?" She obviously thinks this will disappoint him, and he is disappointed, but maybe she is right. Maybe all he has to do is be patient. Though he barely knows the meaning of the word.

"Yes. I think you're right. Maybe we should relax a little. But this doesn't mean I'm giving up completely." Rumpelstiltskin offers his arm and Belle takes it happily. "I'm sure there's something I'm missing."

"And if there is, you'll find it." Belle is absolutely right. If there's something missing, he'll find it. And when he does, he'll be unstoppable.

They walk through the shop arm in arm, assuring each other that they'll be back to finish dealing with the mess, and Rumpelstiltskin congratulates himself on a successful day. Belle has had a tiny breakthrough, no one has stormed in to tell him what an awful person he is, and he has not, to the best of his knowledge, ruined anyone's life. He feels better than he has in a long time. And he almost gets to keep this feeling. Almost. But something catches his eye and the temptation is too much. He picks up the box that is hanging halfway off the shelf, calling his name, and slips it into his coat pocket before he and Belle lock up the shop and head for home.

This is going to be fun.


	6. Day 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know this probably isn't the place for it, but thank you all so much for the support! It really means a lot!

The unnatural darkness that falls over Storybrooke leads several irate citizens to Rumpelstiltskin's door, or rather the door of his shop where he and Belle have taken refuge from the creature that is currently careening from house to house, building to building, searching for Regina. The Charmings and their daughter are, of course, the first to accuse him of everything from holding Belle hostage -which she vehemently denies- to trying to wipe Storybrooke off the map. 

"If that were true, why come to me for help?" There is something Rumpelstiltskin has never attempted with this family. Reasoning. If it's a swing and a miss he can always say that he tried.

"We're not coming to you for help. We're coming to you for answers." Emma stands before him, all confidence and self-righteousness, feet planted firmly apart and back ramrod straight. Looking like someone that ought not be trifled with. Rumpelstiltskin likes to trifle with her. He likes it a lot.

"If you want answers you can march right back to that jail and ask Her Majesty. Or have you forgotten that she's the one who set this horrible curse in the first place?"

"We haven't forgotten." Snow White falters, just as she always does when she speaks to Rumpelstiltskin face to face, but steps in front of Emma protectively, as if she weren't the one who put her infant daughter in a tree in hopes that she'd grow up to become some fearless Savior. Not that Rumpelstiltskin isn't grateful. Snow's single-minded pursuit of the safety of her kingdom has served him well. 

"Or am I just easier to deal with than your loving step-mother?"

Snow White flushes, beautiful in her cowardice.

"Oh, don't worry, Dearie. I've chosen to step in and deal with her for you. You're welcome."

They should all be thanking him. Regina is a virus, and she has spread her sickness far and wide, to every person in this town. Rumpelstiltskin himself has not escaped unscathed. The one person left in the Enchanted Forest that he had cared about and Regina took her to use against him. She wounded his soul. It is his own fault. It could never be Belle's.

"That thing...it's after Regina?" To the point, as always. It is one of the few things Rumpelstiltskin likes about Emma. She doesn't play around. 

"And only Regina. Though I wouldn't advise getting in its way." 

"What is it going to do to her?" Snow asks. 

"Nothing less than she deserves." Rumpelstiltskin steals a glance at Belle, still expecting, waiting, for her to be horrified at his words, at his actions. If she is, she does not let on. What is going on outside seems to hold her attention more than what is happening inside the shop, and she stares out of the window as if trying to catch a glimpse of the Wraith. He fervently hopes that she doesn't.

"We need to get to Regina." Emma turns and Charming makes a grab at her arm to stop her, visibly devastated when she wrenches herself free of his grasp. Interesting. "Now, before that thing does."

"That thing is called a Wraith. Ask Her Highness about it. I'm sure she wouldn't mind filling you in."

Emma gives Rumpelstiltskin one last glare before leading her parents out of the shop, sidestepping Belle along the way. Belle barely nods a goodbye.

"So," she says, casually shutting the door and locking it behind the Charmings, "a Wraith?"

Rumpelstiltskin nods. "The best I could do with what little magic I have." He wants to change the subject, though it is difficult to think of anything else worth discussing at this point, but then he notices something he should have noticed before. The set of her mouth... the tilt of her head.. .the gleam in her eye... Belle is anything but afraid. "Do you... do you want me to tell you about it? It's not pretty."

Belle smiles a mischievous smile. "What do you think?"

"I'll go get the book."

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I don't understand."

Belle and Rumpelstiltskin sit together on the comfortable sofa in his rarely-used living room, so close that he can smell the strawberry scent of her hair, so close that he can barely concentrate on the supremely important matter at hand.

"I thought your magic wasn't working. How were you able to summon this?" An ancient book lays across Belle's bare knees and she traces the illustration inside with her fingers. It hardly does the real thing justice.

"My magic is... rusty. I think it simply needs time to adjust to this strange new world." Rumpelstiltskin feels oddly defensive, as though she is calling him into question instead of his powers. "And, at any rate, magic is not all purple hazes and fireballs. There are certain objects that will retain their powers no matter what you throw at them." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out one of the objects in question. The talisman used to bring the Wraith to Storybrooke, wrapped in a handkerchief. Belle holds a hand out for it and he places it carefully into her palm. "Talismans are very powerful things. They can hold the very essence of a person if there's a strong enough feeling attached." He thinks longingly of her chipped teacup, put away until he can stand to look at it again.

"It's beautiful." Belle says, flipping the talisman over and over again in the palm of her hand. 

"Yes. And dangerous." Rumpelstiltskin takes the talisman from her hands and puts it back in his pocket. "A combination I quite enjoyed in my old life." He hesitates, wondering just how much he wants to divulge. Belle has completely turned his expectations of her upside down, but that does not mean she will approve of everything he throws her way. Maybe just a taste... "For example..." He walks the few steps over to the bookcase, pushing aside knickknacks and strewn books to find one specific book. Why the spells on this book have held when all others seem to have weakened he does not know, but when he pushes his hand to the cover the book glows a faint green and slowly opens, revealing a hollowed inside. He feels Belle beside him before he sees her, and when she reaches out to touch the book he does not stop her. Neither does the book. Rumpelstiltskin tucks that fact away to analyze later. "This is my talisman." The dagger, tucked away inside the hollowed out book, feels just as good in his hand as it did when he summoned the Wraith. It glints dangerously, reminding him of just why it is so heavily guarded.

"Strange. I've never seen a knife that looks like that." Belle stretches her fingers towards it, then takes them away before they make contact. Wise.

"It's not just a knife." Rumpelstiltskin turns the dagger in his palm, relishing the feel. "A knife is for cutting onions and carving children's toys. This is a dagger. My dagger. The source of all my power."

"Your curse." Only Belle would be able to see it for what it is without having to lose her soul in the process. It is for this reason that Rumpelstiltskin relinquishes the dagger to her and lets her examine it as thoroughly as she wishes, despite the anxiety that rises when it is out of his grasp. She peers closely at the writing on the blade and scrunches her eyes in confusion. "Who is... Rum...pelstiltskin?" she asks, stumbling over the name. Rumpelstiltskin runs through the last few days in his head, minute by minute, because surely... surely.. no. He hasn't told her.

"It's me."


End file.
